roadless & loveless
by shen salazar
Summary: let’s run into the bright lights and search for cities in the sky. — kuroo/male!oc.


Mori Koki: 18, 5'11", walking stick, student of Nekoma, loves polos, wears a different shade of hair color every month, would rather dance than do anything, ex-boyfriend and best friend of Kuroo Tetsurou.

Yes, you read that pretty fine.

Yes, they are exes.

Yes, they are still bestfriends.

And, really, who says you can't be be friends with your ex?

—

 ** _roadless and loveless._**

—

 **01.** _sit right here with you_

(if you'll let me)

—

For Koki, the world is black, and white, and gray.

It needs color, it needs life; and it is so full of it everyday. The trees are green and brown and sometimes even red, orange and yellow — like a dripping sunset. Then fall comes and they wilt and die, but they're a sign that there was once life blooming and singing underneath its leaves.

Koki thinks that's beautiful. And so, his hair is green this month.

His mother said his hair will get damaged and he'll wake up one day bald, but what's life without a little thrill knowing your hair will someday disappear?

(Koki says that, but he's internally panicking that his beautiful, majestic hair will be gone overnight.)

Koki was young. He wasn't even past his twenties. He's almost there — but the main point is: he's not yet there. His hair is his signature, people say, and it makes him look younger. But Koki dyes his hair regularly because it makes him remember that he's _alive_. That he's free and as long as he is, as long as he can see a change occurring in him to not make him forget, he knows there's still life inside of him.

Perhaps it's naive thinking, perhaps not. It's not something Koki thinks about. It's only what he believes in.

"Koki, your hair looks like moss today!"

Koki turns to the side to see his best friend and ex, as of recent events, Kuroo Tetsurou. He has ridiculous hair that Koki always insults every chance he gets, because who has hair like that? Hideous. Totally hideous and not endearing, and not cute and not so fucking adorable—

"And your hair looks like it had sex with your pillow last night!" Koki enthusiastically replied.

The first year eating in the cafeteria nearby probably choked a little, but that wasn't Koki's fault.

"Ha, lame," said Kuroo. "Come on, Koki. Classes are over! We're having practice."

"And what? I'll be your unofficial waterboy?"

"You wound me," Kuroo replied, putting a hand over his chest in mock hurt. "Didn't you know? You're my caretaker!"

Koki smacked him and huffed, "I'm only going to see Kenma and Lev. And show off my hair."

Kuroo made a face, "Your moss hair? What's so great about it?"

"It's beautiful. It's art. So you shut up."

Kuroo ruffled Koki's hair, beaming as he grinned at Koki, "Yeah. You're always pretty, Koki."

And that was _unfair_. Because Koki felt his heart skip a beat and—

"Don't say things like that, rooster head. I'm handsome and not pretty."

— he shouldn't, _shouldn't_ say things like that or Koki will be forced to think there's a chance when Kuroo just said to him a week ago that they can't work that he's not into boys not into _him_ —

and Koki's already accepted that, saying nothing will change between them.

Nothing did.

Not between them, that is. Only with Koki.

—

"Kori!"

Koki returned the hug that Lev greeted him with after he entered Nekoma's gymnasium. The rest of the team were already there practicing when he and Kuroo arrived.

 _Kori_ was Lev's nickname for him. They were cousins on the mother side — and when Lev was a kid, he always called Koki as Kori, and it stuck.

"Ah, Lev. You'll break my bones."

"Sorry, sorry! But your hair looks great!"

"I know, when is it not? You should go now, though."

His cousin only grinned sheepishly and waved goodbye to head over to practice as he was already being scolded for lingering too long.

Koki saluted back to Lev like he always does when parting with someone, and sat at one of the nearby seats to watch their practice. Koki took his time to observe his other friend, Kenma, who looked nonchalant — and even bored, as always, tossing to Kuroo and occasionally Lev when he feels like it. They all look alive, in a way. It's not a match, it's just practice, just playing with the ball — but they look _alive_. It's like volleyball is their color. It's what they use to fill the greyscale with roaring life. It's so unlike Koki's way of giving the reminder of life he wanted but it's still beautiful nonetheless.

Koki wonders what else besides his colors give him life.

And when Kuroo grinned at him as he spiked, Koki thinks that maybe, _maybe_ that was it.

(It was maddening.)

—

"I was amazing, wasn't I, Koki?"

Kuroo said immediately when he rushed to Koki after their break for a bottle of water.

 _You always are_ , Koki wanted to say.

But he opted for, "You looked like a rooster that was actually flying." And then, he tossed Kuroo a water bottle.

Kuroo jabbed Koki's ribs as he drank, almost finishing the bottle in one go.

"Let's go out after practice?"

Koki wanted to say yes but, "Can't. Lev said my aunt wanted to see me or something. Mom's going to be there too, so."

Kuroo still kept the smile on his face though it didn't quite reach his eyes, "Some other time, then?"

"Some other time."

—

When Koki arrived at his aunt's house with Lev, it was almost nightfall.

They didn't mind, since even Koki's mother wasn't even there yet, probably too caught up with her job to be on time for a small family gathering.

Dinner was a comfortable event. They talked about how Lev was doing at volleyball, and Koki told them he was doing fine — leaving out all the times Lev failed, at times, as they would incessantly ask about it if he did. Lev shot Koki a grateful look across from him.

And, dinner, especially during family gatherings, Koki almost forgot, was a really intrusive event.

"Ah, Koki-kun, Lev mentioned that you have a boyfriend?" His aunt asked. And Koki thanked the heavens that he wasn't eating or drinking anything, because he surely would have choked. Lev snickered to his plate and once he noticed Koki glaring at him from across, he mouthed a 'sorry'.

"Uh, we broke up a week ago, actually. It was a mutual breakup, and we're still friends."

His aunt blinked and immediately apologized, apparently for bringing up 'bad memories'. "I'm sorry, dear, we didn't know."

"It's nothing, it was recent anyways."

Thankfully, dinner continued without any more prying questions about Koki.

—

"I'm curious." said Lev quietly beside Koki.

Koki peered up at him from where he was laying on the bed, "About what?"

"You and Kuroo-san, I guess."

Koki's eyebrows raised, a questioning look plastered on his face, "Why? It was a mutual breakup, like _I_ told you. Like Tetsurou told you."

"I dunno. You guys seemed perfect for each other. You two were practically attached by the hip even when you weren't together yet. It just.. seems weird."

"Tetsurou was just testing out if we would work, or if he liked boys. Apparently his curiosity got satiated, so we broke up. It's nothing. We only even got together because he thought it'd make no difference." explained Koki, exhaling as he put an arm under his head.

Lev looked at him in the eyes, "Did it make a difference, Kori?"

"Not really," replied Koki. "We were mostly the same."

"Like how you are now?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Then how do you know how this is different from being boyfriends or not?"

Koki hummed, "I don't know. We just do."

"Like there's something missing?"

"Lev, you're creeping me out with your questions. Go back to being a dork."

Lev laughed loudly at that, "Sorry, Kori. It's just.. I feel bad, y'know."

And Koki shrugged, "Why feel bad for something that wasn't meant to be?"

"Whatever you say, Kori."

And that was true, really — Kuroo was only that. Tetsurou, Koki's best friend and go-to-man. His other half, the one he can rely on. But that's where the list stops. Because Kuroo has to be only _that_. He can't be something more.

It's better this way, Koki thinks, because this is easier than love.


End file.
